Week Sixteen: May Day Party

Comrades! It is time to tear down the crepe paper of Cokesbury parties past to erect the heavy, patriotic bunting of May, and the May Day Parade!

While we in the glorious worker's paradise do not need parties, as every day is a party in the land of Lenin and Stalin! So let us start with the imperialist Cokesbury invitation to the party, as if you really need one:

April showers bring May flowers,
And May brings sunshine and joy.
But Friday night brings a jolly time
For all our bunch -- Oh boy!
So come at eight to Bob Smith's house,
For this glorious day
We're choosin' one to reign o'er us,
And crownin' her Queen o' the May!

So, comrades, we . . . wait a minute. Okay. So it's not that kind of May Day Party. Hang on a minute.

That's a little better. Maypoles, wholesome maidens in odd hats. Ivy-covered cottages and such. Still, need to fix the ambiance just a bit. How 'bout this:



That's better, though Edvard Greig might still be a little bohemian for the Cokesbury crowd. But since you're all gathered at Bob Smith's house for a party anyway, just let it roll. This music, by the way, might be the most interesting thing you do or hear at the party, as this one is subdued, even by Cokesbury's standards.

So take down your pictures of Lenin and Stalin, and get these decorations up quick before your more Republican guests arrive:

This party is planned to be held on the lawn and, if possible, among the trees. A home with a large yard in which there are trees, to the limbs of which could be hung Japanese lanterns, would be ideal. Some of the party would be held in the house. Decorate the house with vines and flowers. There should be sufficient lanterns with electric lights in them to make the lawn light.

Erect a Maypole on the lawy by putting a pole in the ground, fastening streams of crepe paper about ten or fifteen feet long to the top of the pole. THere should be enough of these for each guest.

Now, I don't know what May is like where you live, but where I live, it's not uncommon to have torrential rain or even show showers on any given day of the month, along with winds that would rip any crepe-paper Maypole streamers to shreds. Around here, when we have Maypoles, the streamers tend to be of light canvas heavily stitched to avoid ripping and our Japanese lanterns tend to be 2 1/2 gallon buckets with holes punched in them to let the light escape, so go along with your local meteorological phenomena to create the proper, yet robust, mood.

Now, on to the first game. Hope you have lots of pencils and willing guests.

Flower Writing Contest. Give each couple a blank sheet of paper and pencil. In a given time they are to write all the names of flowers that they can think of. Give a prize to the couple that has the largest list.

Maybe we ought to reconsider Communism . . .

Forget I wrote that. Beause I picked a lame May Day-themed game, that's for sure. SUrely Cokesbury has something better for your guests to do, though it would be fun to see how many people could spell dianthus or chrysanthemum correctly. Here's another game:

Are You There? One player is blindfolded and stands in the center with a pole in his hand aobut eight feet long. Music may be played, although it is not necessary. If music is played, when the music stops, the ones in the line stop, and the one in the center points his rod toward the line. The one toward whom he points must take hold of the end of the rod. The leader says,' Are You There?" The player may answer "Yes" or "Uh-huh." The player may try to disguise his voice in any way possible. If the one in the center guesses who it is, that one must change places with him. If no music is played, the one in the center may stop the line marching around by tapping on his pole with a stick.

I don't know about you, but if I were at a party blindfolded and holding a stick, the first and only thought to enter my mind would be "Pinata!" I think those with whom I made contact with the stick would be hollering something a lot more forceful and meaningful than "Uh huh." I also have to wonder where your'e going to find guests with eight-foot-long hands. Or maybe you dont' live in Unclear Antecedent Land like the author.

So let's move on to the next party game. Good news is, it involves your whistle.

Flower Relay. Divide into two equal sides, and have them form two circles and join hands. One player in each circle is given a flower. When the leader's whistle blows, he must carry this flower in his hand and weave in and out among the players in the circle and in this way make a circuit. He then gives the flower to the next one on his right, and that one must weave in and out around the circle, and so on until all have made the circuit. When all have done this, the game is completed and the circle that finishes first wins.

Again, a popular game in Unclear Antecedent Land. I hope the leader doesn't end up swallowing his whistle as he's dashing through the circle to make one of those vaunted circuits.

Now the Maypole. Nobody ever sets up a Maypole without expecting their friends to dance around it like fools.

Dancing Around the Maypole. Players tand in two circles, the girls on the inner circle facing clockwise, the bosy inthe outer circle facing counter-clockwise. When the music starts, they march in opposite directions and wind up their streamers, the boys holding their streamers over the heads of the girls as far as possible, then they face about and unwind them. The girsl then form a circle on the outside and the boys on the inside, and the girsl raise their streamers over the heads of the bosy and wind and unwinde in a similar manner.

Maypoles, of course, have their roots in Germanic paganism and may actually represent phallic symbols common in spring rites. Make sure to remember to mention this to your more Republican guests only just after they've gotten over the affrontery of your Lenin and Stalin decorations.

Now, it's time to choose the Queen of May, though Cokesbury doesn't make it clear why. I suppose there's nothing better to do. Cokesbury suggests a democratic vote, though it might be more fun to combine such a vote with speeches, electioneering, polling of the voters, caucuses, lobbying and other such truck of the American political system to take the curse off . . . wait, never mind. Once chosen, of course, you have to crown the Queen of May. Do so in this manner, going along with the aforementioned pagan traditions, of course.

Crowining the Queen. After the queen has been chosen there should be a coronation ceremony. Attendants for the queen should be chosen [see electioneering method above] by the one in charge of the party, and these should prepare the throne and the crown (which should be made in advance). Have the guests form an arch with their hands, letting the queen and her attendants pass under the arch of the throne. All then come to the throne and bow or kneel before the throne.

With all the bowing and kneeling, I recommend not using the home's traditional throne, unless the hostess has thoroughly cleaned.

Now all that's left is refreshments. Cokesbury recommends a brick ice cream and lady fingers for a "dainty" refreshment. That's probably what the Queen and all her attendants are for.

That's it until next week. But what a week next week shall be: College Field Day! Groins, get ready to be pulled.